``I'll not deny that has
something to do with it,'' he admitted. ``And why
not?''
``Why not, indeed?'' said she. ``But, after she had
made the hit, you'd want her to quit the stage and take
her place in society. Isn't that so?''
``You ARE a keen one,'' exclaimed he admiringly.
``But I didn't say that to her. And you won't, will you?''
``It's hardly necessary to ask that,'' said Mrs.
Brindley. ``Now, suppose-- You don't mind my talking
about this?''
``What I want,'' replied he. ``I can't talk or think
anything but her.''
``Now, suppose she shouldn't make a hit. Suppose
she should fail--should not develop reliable voice
enough?''
Stanley looked frightened. ``But she can't fail,''
he cried with over-energy. ``There's no question about
her voice.''
``I understand,'' Mrs. Brindley hastened to say. ``I
was simply making conversation with her as the subject.''
``Oh, I see.'' Stanley settled back.
``Suppose she should prove not to be a great artist--
what then?'' persisted Cyrilla, who was deeply interested
in the intricate obscure problem of what people
really thought as distinguished from what they professed
and also from what they imagined they thought.
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